The Beloved of Andraste
by JaphirTheGreenDragon
Summary: Set in 9:27 Dragon, a small adventure involving a young Anders, templars, qunari, and elves. Oh and a mysterious girl whose mother is not all she seems. Honestly? This is random crap off the top of my head so I hope you enjoy! Please review and let me know what you think!
1. Arella

Opening her eyes, she found herself on cold hard ground. Her blue eyes blinked to adjust to the light reflecting blindingly off of the snow around her. She shivered. Had it been winter? She couldn't remember. Sitting up, she dusted herself off and looked around. She was in a small clearing, surrounded by rocks. There were mountains off in the distance. Their massive teeth carving into the dim sky. Where was this place? With a jolt, she noticed blood blooming on the snow beside her. She jumped away in terror, not knowing what to expect and found that it was her own blood. Her wrist was bleeding heavily from hundreds of small scratches. Suddenly she felt its ache. She tore a strip off the bottom of her dress and attempted to bind it. Knowing very little of medicine, she hardly stopped the blood flow. She clutched her hand to her chest and started running. She fled wildly over rocks and through trees in panic. How did she get here? Where was here? Her mind was so confused. She tripped over a fallen log and hurtled into the snow beyond it. Jarring her wrist, she screamed. The pain was all too real, if nothing else was. She rolled onto her back and lay, not wanting to get up and face this strange world. There, she began to regain her senses. Her racing heartbeat calmed and her thoughts began to clear. She was in an unfamiliar forest, at the base of an incredibly large mountain range. She would have to find some sort of shelter, fast; otherwise she would freeze come nightfall. She stood gingerly, and looked around. She could see nothing past the sparse forest that offered her any comfort. No signs of people or civilization. So, she walked. Angling away from the mountains, and ever down. She was not entirely at the base of the mountains as she had first thought. She was in the foothills. There was a lake in the valley below and she knew she would need fresh water. Night was settling in as she reached its shores. She drank deeply, the wonderfully clean water healing her spirit. She hesitantly washed her wrist, unsure of what to do with such a wound. Somehow she managed to bind it well enough on her second try. She sat by the water and wondered what to do next. Her stomach growled. She would need food, she knew, but neither knowing how to hunt nor fish left her at a disadvantage. However, she had already found fresh water. Casting her eyes over the lake, she felt secure. She would be able to find food the next day. Maybe it was okay to just lay there, open to the stars. All her need for shelter seeped out of her and she lay back. Closing her eyes she took a deep, slow breath. She was so tired.

Sleep took her...


	2. Caylus

Opening her eyes, she found herself wrapped up in a scratchy blanket. She blinked. Had that all been a dream? No. Her wrist throbbed and when she looked down at it, she saw that it was neatly bandaged with clean white linen. She glanced around. She was lying beside a small fire that had been reduced to embers. There was a large pack beside it and a small pan atop the coals. She sat up, scanning the makeshift camp for its creator.

"Ah, awake are you? Good. I was worried there for a bit." a man's voice startled her. She tensed and whipped around to face him. What little light there was, seemingly glowed off of the man's silver armor. Emblazoned on the chest plate was a sword surrounded by flames. He was young, maybe ten years older than herself, and carried an armful of sticks, "Woah, calm down there. Just went to get some firewood. Sorry if I surprised you." he said, smiling apologetically.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked, reaching for her temples. God did her head hurt. The man walked past her and set the sticks down next to the fire.

"My name is Caylus, and this is... well, we're a ways west of Kinloch Hold. In the foothills of the Frostbacks." he explained, rekindling the embers, "Who are you? What were you doing out here?"

"I am... Arella. I have heard of the Frostbacks but am unfamiliar with this 'Kinloch Hold'." she told him.

"It's at the top of Lake Calenhad... The Circle of Magi?" Arella shook her head, not recognizing either place, "Hmm, well anyway, what were you doing out here, alone?"

"I do not know... I woke up here, I think, a day ago." she said, "I do not know how I got here nor what happened to my wrist."

"You're lucky to be alive. I found you fast asleep, half lying in the water. Who falls asleep within stretching distance of an almost frozen lake?" Caylus asked.

"I am unsure. I remember seeing the lake but then my senses... slipped away."

"There is magic there. I sensed it when I first camped next to that lake. I think I was somewhat immune because of my training so I managed to get away." the man said, nodding.

"Thank you for helping me." Arella bowed her head slightly.

"It was my honor." Caylus smiled, "I believe I can assist you in reaching the nearest town but I'm afraid that's all I can do. I'm on a mission, you see, and what I'm after is very dangerous."

Arella gave him a quizzical look, "You are... hunting?"

"Well, sort of. I'm looking for an apostate." Caylus paused, seeing her blank look, "Erm... A rogue mage."

"I don't understand. What do you mean by 'rogue' mage? Do you mean a magister?"

"Dear Maker, no! Were I after a magister I'd have a whole troupe of Templars behind me!" he laughed, "No, just a scared little boy who got himself lost. Should be nothing to worry about, but I'm not going to take any chances." Arella nodded slowly, still not entirely understanding but didn't want to press the matter further.

"I could help you, if you wished. It seems like you are wary of mages. Perhaps I could calm the boy for you. I was raised among mages so I am comfortable with them." The knight seemed taken aback.

"You... were raised among mages? Are you a mage?" he asked, tensing.

"No, I was not born with the gift." Arella stopped herself before saying more. This man reacted to mages like they were vipers. Perhaps it was best to keep her family to herself.

"You were raised in a Circle?"

"I have never heard of a 'Circle'." She shook her head.

The Templar narrowed his eyes, "A group of apostates then."

"Apostates are rogue mages, yes? And rogue mages are children who are lost? Then no." Caylus sighed.

"No, no. Apostates are mages outside of the Circle of Magi. Mages that deny Chantry law. Look, your parents probably didn't teach you much about the world, likely because they were in hiding. Just... get some sleep and in the morning we'll start heading towards Aren."

"Take me with you. I want to help." Arella pressed, "I do not fear mages, my parents taught me how to fight. I can defend myself."

"No. Even the most skilled warrior could fall easily to a mage."

"Then I'll follow you. You cannot stop me from doing that." She crossed her arms and glared at the man. Sparks flew for a moment as they stared each other down. Finally, Caylus sighed.

"Fine. But if you do not listen to me I _will_ take you back and I _will_ make you stay there." Arella smiled triumphantly.

"Of course!" Caylus stood, shaking his head and went over to his pack. He rummaged through it for a minute then drew out a pair of small hunting knives.

"Here," he said, handing them to her, "You said you knew how to fight. You can use these."

She tested their weight and balanced them on her fingers, satisfied, "So. Who is the boy?"

"His name is Anders. He was brought to the Circle a year ago after he set a barn on fire. I believe he's 13."

"I see." Arella looked around, yawning. If she had the blanket, where was Caylus going to sleep?

He chuckled, "Get some sleep, I'll keep watch."


	3. Anders

The next morning, Caylus was stamping out the coals and finishing packing up the camp. Arella rose and went to help him but he brusquely brushed off her aid. They set out quickly. The knight held a small vial around his neck that he relied on for direction. Arella asked questions the whole way, about the Circle and Ferelden in general. After a few hours, Caylus held up his hand.

"Stop." he whispered, "He's nearby." He moved from tree to tree, trying to hide himself as he scanned the area for the boy. Arella just walked. She silently cast out her senses, like her mother had taught her, and heard a faint rustling to her left. She drew apart the bushes and came face to face with a young boy. The boy reeled back in surprise and nearly tripped over himself.

"Found you." Arella smiled. Caylus ran over, reaching for his sword.

"Stay back, Templar! I'm not going back to that tower, I'm not!" the boy cried.

"Calm down, we're here to help you." Arella said. The boy ignored her and raised his hands, summoning wisps of magick.

The Templar swore and grabbed the vial, holding it out at Anders. The magick faded and Anders shook his hands, trying harder, but it was no use.

"Damn it!" the boy swore, "Fine, take me back. But I'm tellin' you it won't last long!" Arella looked over at Caylus.

"What did you just do?"

"I nulled his magic. This is a vial of his blood that any Templar can use to do so or to track him with." he explained.

"Umm... Didn't you just finish explaining to me how blood magic is evil incarnate? What do you think that is?" Arella pointed out.

"Hey, you are so right!" the boy, Anders, joined in, "Technically the Templars use blood magic! I never thought about it like that before!"

"Quiet, mage." Caylus said curtly, "This is not blood magic. I am no mage, I cannot use magic. Come on, we're going back to the tower." He turned and waved for them to follow. Arella glanced at Anders and smiled, trying to reassure the boy. He grinned back and winked.

"What's a beautiful woman such as yourself doing with a grumpy Templar like Caylus?"

Arella chuckled, "He saved my life."

They travelled for the rest of the day and partly into the night. Caylus stayed silent for most of the journey while Anders and Arella chatted amiably. That night, Caylus took watch again, ignoring Arella's complaints that he needed sleep. She stubbornly stayed up beside him. Anders began to snore softly, and Arella smiled.

"You seem drawn to the boy." Caylus stated, not even turning to look at her.

"He's cute." Arella said, "He's like a little brother."

"You should really be more careful around mages. Their intentions are always unknown."

"Yeah well so are everyone else's. It doesn't take magic to be secretive or dangerous." Arella shot back.

"They are dangerous. Demons are always whispering to them. It only takes one slip"

"I could turn around and kill you just as easily as a mage. Demons are a convenient excuse for a bad decision. Watch what you say about mages, my mother was a mage. You might call her an apostate but from what I've heard that equivilates with blood magic. My mother fought against blood mages, and triumphed. She didn't need blood magic to be more powerful than them. She was the best person I have ever known." Arella said, vehemently.

"And how many blood mages have you come across being from a family of apostates?" Caylus childishly argued back.

"Where I'm from there is no Circle! So she could not have possible been an _apostate_!"

"Where are you from that has no Circle? There are Circles all over Thedas." Caylus could not figure out this girl.

"Maybe I'm from a different time then, I don't know! I know what I remember!" She stood, pacing in frustration. Then sighed, "Look, I- ...I have given this much thought. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember names. I see what they looked like, I know what they were, but anything that could identify where they are or where I am from slips out of my grasp." She was facing away from Caylus now. Her shoulders were slumped and the man's demeanor softened, seeing her as what she was, a lost young girl.

"Well... That... could be a start. What year was it?" he said, trying to comfort her.

"I do not understand what you mean. Year? Do you speak of the elven pantheon? I know they keep time with something similar."

"Elven pantheon? Oh, don't tell me you were friends with a Dalish as well." Caylus chuckled, "The Dalish are a myth. You probably heard some knife-ear go on about his ancestors and all that." Arella turned to glare at him.

"I do not have the faintest idea what a 'Dalish' is but if you utter another word against the noble folk you will regret it." she threatened icily.

Caylus held up his hands apologetically, "Sorry, sorry. I call them that will all respect." Arella scoffed at his flippant attitude.

"Enough of this, I am going to rest. Good night."


	4. Karasaad

They continued their journey the next day, Caylus informing them that they would see the tower the next afternoon if they made good time. A short while later, Arella began to notice an acrid smell in the air. It quickly became stronger as they neared the source. The three began to see the flames ahead of them and rushed forward to find a large campsite in cinders. Strewn about were the bodies of giant horned creatures and corrupted, vile things known as darkspawn.

"Sweet blood of Andraste... Qunari _and_ darkspawn? Shit, this is not good... Come on, we have to move!" Caylus swore, pulling his charges away from the wreck. Muffled shouts came from their right and Arella broke free, heading towards them.

"That sounds like fighting... If there are any survivors we have to help them!" she cried, drawing her daggers.

"Arella!" Caylus shouted, "Stop! We don't know how many there are, we could be vastly outnumbered!" He cursed more as Anders ran after her. He drew his own sword and followed, praying that they were not heading straight to their deaths.

Arella reached the battlefield and saw one of the giants, qunari as Caylus had named them, fending off a group of darkspawn by himself. The girl barely regarded her own safety and hurled herself into the fray. She tackled one darkspawn to the ground and sliced it's neck open, being mindful of its blood. The others realized they were being flanked and quickly turned to fight her instead. The nearest one swung down at her kneeling form and she whirled to face it, using a rising block with her dagger to keep the sword above her head. Almost simultaneously she thrust with her left hand and impaled the darkspawn through its stomach. More took its place as it fell to the side and Arella stood, bit by bit, parrying countless blows haphazardly thrown her way. Suddenly the one directly in front of her was blasted with ice and froze over. She glanced over her shoulder to see Anders holding his stave out in terror. She winked at him reassuringly and turned back, cutting through four more of the group before coming blade to blade with the qunari. The giants blow knocked her dagger clean out of her hand and she jumped back. He stared at her for a moment then looked around, realizing all the darkspawn had been defeated. He slung his war hammer onto his back and bowed his head at Arella.

"I thank you, bas, for your assistance"

Arella couldn't help but stare, "What... are you?" she asked. Just then Caylus came running up.

"Maker's breath, you two run fast!" he gasped, then noticing the qunari and the dead darkspawn, "Arella, come here! Get back!"

"Be silent, Caylus. I do not think he means us harm." the girl said and stepped tentatively closer to the giant, "Are you all right? That was quite the battle."

"I am Karasaad and I do not require your concern." the qunari grunted.

"Well, nice to meet you, Karasaad." Arella smiled, "I am Arella. I have never seen your kind before, what... are you?"

"He's qunari," Caylus cut in, "Alright, you've saved the survivor. Let's move, Arella."

"Hush, you."

Karasaad observed the two, then glanced around at his fallen unit, "I am not qunari. I have left the Qun behind as my beresaad lies dead. I am Tal'Vashoth, but I still need order. You, Basvaraad, worthy of following, would you accept my steel?"

"You want to come with us?" Arella asked incredulously, "Why not? We could use a strong pair of hands, with Ser Useless over here." She rounded on Caylus, "Where exactly were you during that whole fight?

"_I_ was watching our backs for any flanking attacks, thank you. While _you_ ran head first into danger, not caring about your own safety at all!" he shot back.

"_You_ wanted to run at the first sign of danger! How cowardly is that?" The two bickered continuously as they scavenged what they could from the ruined camp and set out again, a new kossith friend in tow.


	5. Rynar

The next morning when Arella woke, she opened her eyes to a head of short blond hair below her chin.

"Anders!" The boy mumbled something, still asleep, "Anders, let go!" Arella laughed, pushing him away. Caylus grabbed the boy's ear angrily and yanked him backwards. Anders yelped in pain.

"Hey, what was that for!?" he cried, clutching his ear.

"Oh, stop being so rough with him, Caylus! He's just a boy!"

"Get up. I don't want to waste any time getting back to the tower." the Templar grunted.

"Awww, you want to get rid of me so soon?" Arella pouted, giggling.

"I want to be rid of _him_ soon." he said, pointing to Anders. The boy grinned and waved, gleefully. Arella laughed and helped pack up camp. Karasaad was silent as usual as he went about whatever Arella asked him to do.

As they began walking Anders and Arella picked up their usual chatter.

"-I was so mad, I wanted to blast his head off with a nice bolt of lightning!" Anders ranted, finishing a story of him and another apprentice at the Circle. Arella smiled and looked down at him.

"_'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.'_ Don't let your ability of magic use you, Anders. Let it serve the best in you." she told him.

Caylus laughed in disbelief, "Out of everything that you could possible know, that you don't, you know the Chant of Light?"

"The what?"

"_'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.'_" he intoned, "It's the Chant of Light. The... Canticle of Transfigurations, I believe."

"That was just something my mother used to tell me. I had no idea it came from somewhere else." Arella mused.

"Your mother, the apostate mage, taught you the Chant?" Caylus asked, sarcastically.

"Well, apparently so!" she said angrily and turned away from him. She strode past him, to walk a bit ahead so she didn't have to look at him.

"Hey, you, shem! Stop, there's-" a male voice called out, but in vain. Arella disappeared out of Caylus' sight as she dropped straight down into a hidden pitfall trap. She landed a second later with a muffled _crack_ and a yelp.

"Arella!" Caylus shouted running to the edge.

"Owww..." came the muttered reply.

Another face popped into view above the pit. A young elven man was peering down at her, "Sorry, I tried to warn you." he said. He looked to his left and suddenly was dragged out of sight, "Hey! Woah, there, put me down!"

Caylus, tensing at the appearance of the elf, chuckled softly, "Karasaad's got him. Hang on, Arella, I'll get you out."

"I didn't do anything to you, giant! Will someone tell this thing to put me down!?"

"Karasaad! Put. The elf. Down!" Arella shouted up at them. There was a thud and the elf grunted, "Caylus, I think my ankle is broken... I cannot climb my way out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it. If your pet over here hadn't decided I was a plaything, I'd have you out by now." the elf grumbled. There was a rustling noise and he returned with a large branch.

"She just said she couldn't climb, elf." Caylus said.

"Shut up, shem." The elf ignored him and placed the branch over the pit. Crawling onto it, he swung upside down and hung, his arms just in front of Arella's face, "Come on, grab hold."

Arella reached up in confusion, wondering how this tiny elf was going to pull her up. He grasped her forearms and slowly crunched up, clinging tightly to the branch with his legs. As soon as Caylus could reach her hands himself, he grabbed onto her and the elf let go. Arella was pulled up and out of the rest of the pit by Caylus and set on the ground as he heaved from exertion. Anders dashed over and began to heal her ankle. The elf, barely even perspiring, sat perched on his branch and watched them.

"Ummm... thank you for helping me out." Arella smiled at him.

"Just forget you saw me and we'll be even, shemlen." He jumped up to dash away but Karasaad stopped him. Staring down at him with his eternally frowning face, "Care to, um... help out here?" The man asked Arella.

"Andaran atish'an, friend. Was it you who set this trap?" she greeted formally.

"You know elvish?" He narrowed his eyes, "How?"

"My mother had a good friend who was an elf. He taught me many things about your people."

The elf regarded her dubiously, "Well, yes. It was me who set the trap. I was hoping to catch... nevermind. You shems don't need to know."

"Ok, well, what's your name?"

"What do you care?" His ears twitched slightly, picking up on a suspicious sound, "Ssh! They're here! Hide, hide!" He darted up a tree next to him and disappeared in the branches. Not a second later, they heard voices coming up the path. Before they could hide, however, one of the newcomers came into view. There were five men, all heavily clad in armor. When they noticed Karasaad, standing at the head of the group they balked slightly. The leader stepped forward, not intimidated.

"Oh, look. More slaves. Clap them in irons boys. They might be better than those elves we were tracking." he purred.

"Slavers!" Caylus cursed. Arella turned to face them slowly, her anger building.

"You're... slavers?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

"You will speak when spoken to, slave." the man replied. He took a step forward and the elf dropped out of nowhere to stand in front of him.

"My name is Rynar." he said, over his shoulder at Arella, "And these shemlen are after my clan."


	6. Seline

"It's the elf! Get them!"

Rynar leapt into action. He flipped up a section of his leathers to reveal a row of small daggers, lining his chest. Faster than any of the slavers could see he whipped out half of them and sent them flying around himself, forming a barrier. One of the slavers took a step forward and blossomed a hilt from his neck.

"Ma halam, shems." Rynar muttered. The rest of them charged and the elf disappeared into the trees, raining fire on them from above. Karasaad unslung his war hammer and roared, joining the fracas. Caylus readied his sword but held back, defending Arella, whose ankle was not entirely healed. It didn't matter as Karasaad and Rynar took care of the five men easily enough. As Rynar was retrieving his daggers he explained, "My clan is not far from here, we were discovered a few weeks ago by these slavers. We- they've, been eluding them so far but they have already taken a few of our- their, hunters."

"Why do you keep correcting yourself?" Arella asked gently.

"Because I left. The clan just wanted to run, to escape. Leaving behind those the slavers had already caught. I couldn't do that. I am no longer part of the clan, I am an exile." He proceeded to wipe off his blades, "I know it is a lot to ask but please, help me fight these men. These five were only scouts. I know where their camp is but until now I did not have the numbers to challenge them directly."

"No, we are going back to the Circle-" Caylus started.

"Of course, we'll help!" Arella agreed, shooting the Templar a glare.

"No. My duty is to get this mage back to the tower. Karasaad's mess picked us up on the way but I will not go out of it to help some elf and his troupe of children playing make believe that they're Dalish."

"_'Playing make believe'?_" Rynar questioned, his anger mounting.

"Would _someone_ explain to me what a 'Dalish' is?" Arella asked, exasperated.

"I told you already, they are a myth!" Caylus said.

Rynar burst into mirthful laughter, "Ah, now I see. Do you think me a myth? I am standing right before you, shem, and I _am_ Dalish. The Dalish are the elves that refuse to bow to shemlen law. We are the noble keepers of elven lore. _'We are the last of the elvhen and never shall we submit.'_" He turned away from Caylus, who was dumbfounded, and faced Arella, "Ignore this len'alas lath'din," here, Arella giggled, knowing that the term meant 'dirty child no one loves', "I need your help."

"Caylus, according to you, the Circle tower is less than a day away. Surely we can spend a little time rescuing people from slavers!" Arella persuaded.

"Yeah, plus its common knowledge that slavers associate with magisters so you'd really be doing the Order a favor!" Anders chimed in.

"You just want to stall going back to the tower." Caylus deadpanned.

"How'd you know!?" the boy feigned surprise and he and Arella burst into laughter.

"Yes, yes, have your fun. If you want to help this elf then fine. But we will _not_ delay after this again." the Templar threatened. Arella smiled and skipped forward on her newly healed ankle and kissed him on the cheek. He froze.

"Heeeey, what about meee?" Anders complained.

Arella laughed and leaned down to give him a kiss too, "And one for my cheeky little mage."

Rynar and Karasaad watch the three of them silently, Rynar scowling at the 'help' he had won over. He crossed his arms and waited impatiently, "Care to waste more time, or should we stop for tea as well?"

"Lead the way, Rynar." Arella replied.

The elf disappeared into the trees only to reappear farther down the path, hanging upside down. He beckoned them forward. The found the slavers camp easily and hung back at the edge, out of sight. It was a fairly small camp with no more than fifteen men total mulling about. There were three cages at the far end with a few elves trapped inside. Rynar muttered a curse in elvish under his breath.

"Rynar, you stick to the trees and attack with your knives. Anders, hang back and cast your spells from a distance, if someone gets hurt get in and get out again fast, watch your strength. Caylus and Karasaad, you're with me. We'll start in that section, those four sitting by the fire, and sweep across to the cages." Everyone except Caylus nodded at Arella's orders. The knight just stared, the unasked question in his eyes, "My mother was a war leader. I spent much of my time at her side as she led her and my father's armies." Arella answered, shrugging, "Let's go!"

The group charged in, Karasaad letting out a war cry that made the crude tents shake. The slavers reacted far too late and were quickly overwhelmed. Arella bashed off the lock on the cages and the elves scattered. A man came running out of his tent, gripping a gnarled wooden staff. He wore a cowl that covered part of his face.

"Mage!" Caylus shouted, warning the others. The man raised his staff and vanished. The three fighters glanced around for a moment, anxious. The mage reappeared beside one of the released elven women and grabbed her roughly.

"Cease! Or I kill the elf!" he yelled. Arella held up a hand to signal a halt. Rynar dropped beside her, daggers poised.

"Seline!" he gasped, recognizing the woman.

"Back off, mage. Your men are dead." Caylus said.

"Well, that's quite a predicament for then isn't it?" the mage laughed. Wisps of magick began to form at his fingertips, a deep, blood red. It spread out in waves to cover the ground around them. Seeping into the dead slavers. Arella and the others watched, horrified, as they began to rise from the ground. The mage turned to Seline and whispered, "Thank you, my dear."

Seline stared down at the dagger protruding from her chest and let out a choked gasp, falling to her knees, "NO!" Rynar screamed. He dashed forward flinging his knives uselessly at the man. Noticing the barrier, Caylus focused his mind and sent out a wave of spirit energy. Through his Templar training, it would nullify all hostile magick in the area. The mage's barrier shuddered and blinked out of existence. Rynar had reached him by that time and roaring in anguish, he tackled the man to the ground. Breathing raggedly, the elf viciously ran his blade through the mage's neck. The corpses stumbled a few more steps then fell, the magick sustaining them gone. Arella's companions sheathed their weapons and Anders rushed in to make sure they were all alright.

Rynar dropped the dagger that was clutched in his other hand and rushed to the fallen elf. He cradled her head in his arms shook her gently, "Mamae! Nae, nae, mamae, suledin elvarel ar'in." he choked.

The woman looked up at him and smiled, whispering, "Emma melana sahlin, da'mi. Sulahn'ar nuvinen."

Rynar fought back tears and began rocking back and forth. Arella and the others watched sadly as he began to sing.

_Hahren __na melana sahlin  
emma ir abelas  
souver'inan isala hamin  
vhenan him dor'felas  
in uthenera na revas_

_vir sulahn'nehn_  
_vir dirthera_  
_vir samahl la numin_  
_vir lath sa'vunin_

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, gently. Wiping his face, he called out to one of the other released elves that hadn't run. The elf nodded and touched his fingers to his lips, disappearing into the trees. Rynar turned back to the others slowly, "The clan will come for her. Thank you, for helping me. I will never forget you."

"What will you do now?" Arella asked.

"Oh, I'll probably vanish into the woodlands. Live on my own. I don't know."

"Why don't you come with us? The more the merrier!"

Caylus smacked his forehead with his palm, "Arella!" he groaned.

"Why not? Give me one good reason why not to have him."

"He's an el-" The Templar began but was silenced by the girl's fierce glare, "Okay fine!"

"You would accept an elf? An exile?" Rynar asked.

"Welcome to _our_ clan of misfits!" Arella grinned.

* * *

**_Translations(loosely):_**

**_Ma halam: You're finished._**  
**_Len'alas lath'din: Dirty child no one loves._**  
**_Mamae! Nae, nae, mamae, suledin elvarel ar'in: Mother! No, no, Mother, stay with me._**  
**_Emma melana sahlin, da'mi. Sulahn'ar nuvinen: My time has come, little blade. I wish you to sing for me._**  
**_And then the song is:_**  
**_elder your time is come_**  
**_now I am filled with sorrow_**  
**_weary eyes need resting_**  
**_heart has become grey and slow_**  
**_in waking sleep is freedom_**

**_we sing, rejoice_**  
**_we tell the tales_**  
**_we laugh and cry_**  
**_we love one more day._**


	7. Greagoir

That night the group came in sight of the tower. They decided to camp for the night then head in in the morning.

"Sweet Andraste, it'll be good to get back." Caylus said, stretching, as they packed up camp the next morning.

"Who is this 'Andraste' you keep mentioning? Someone you know? Oh, perhaps your wife?" Arella asked.

"I don't have a wife." Caylus grunted, "And how do you not know who _Andraste_ is? Andraste was the Maker's Chosen. The one who gave us the Chant of Light."

"Well, the name sounded familiar but your explanation only made me more confused." she chuckled.

"Andraste was a war leader that led people from slavery. I don't care about your Chant of Light but she and Shartan freed the elves in all lands aside from the Imperium." Rynar continued, lounging on a tree branch above them.

"Huh..."

"Of course that was until she was betrayed by her husband, Maferath. He sold her out to the Archons and watched her be murdered." Caylus finished. They finished packing up and set out. A few hours later they arrived at the tower. Against Caylus' request, Karasaad and Rynar followed them into the structure. Once inside they were met by a large man in the same armor as Caylus.

"Caylus," he greeted, "I see you've retrieved the boy. And... a few others as well."

"Knight-Commander! I didn't expect..." Caylus began.

"Me to be out of my office? Or me to be down here to greet my Knight-Captain when he returns from duty?"

Caylus couldn't think of how to respond. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to. Arella stepped forward to introduce herself, "It is an honor to meet you, Knight-Commander. I am Arella and these are my friends Karasaad and Rynar."

"Arella, do you even know what 'Knight-Commander' means?" Anders giggled.

"Hush, you." she muttered, then back to the Commander, "I admit, I understand that it means you are a 'Commander' of something but I do not know what."

"It's... the Order. The Knight Templars. What I am." Caylus explained, "Knight-Commander Greagoir, I have... a favor to ask." The man chuckled.

"You only get that formal when you want a vacation or something. Come, we'll talk in my office. After we escort the boy to Irving. I'm sure he'll have some words to defend him." Greagoir said, turning and grabbing Anders roughly.

"Hey-!" Arella began but Caylus cut her off, shaking his head slowly. They followed the Knight-Commander through the tower. Passing a few groups of mages and a group of Templars that saluted as they went by. Arella glanced around at the mages and couldn't help but think that they acted like caged animals. Scared, but ready to run at the chance of freedom. The group walked by a room that's door was wide open and voices could be heard inside.

"-Haha, teach him a lesson!" a young Templar jeered. Another Templar stood in front of a mage who was holding up his hands in a surrender. Two more young recruits stood around the first and cheered him on. The Templar taunted the man and knocked him to the ground. The mage begged them to stop, tried to explain that he hadn't done anything wrong but they wouldn't listen.

"Step away from that man."

The Templar recruits turned at the sound of Arella's voice, "And who is this? I don't remember seeing you around before, cutie. A new magey to play with?" Arella seethed, and took a few steps forward menacingly.

Caylus didn't notice she had strayed until it was too late to stop her, "Arella!" He came up behind her and the recruits snapped to attention. The girl ignored him, however and slapped the lead boy across the face.

"From what I've been told about Templars I was led to believe they exist to help the mages. To protect them from others as well as themselves. In what meaning of that purpose is it excusable to beat them!?" she spat. Caylus grabbed her arm before she could slap the others.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he whispered angrily, pulling her away.

"What am I doing?" She reeled back, "What are _you_ doing? These boys were beating this man, just because he is a mage! _And you kept walking!_"

"Arella, not here, not in front of the Knight-Commander."

Arella just stared at him, "I can't believe you." She turned away and helped the mage up, smiling apologetically. She cast a glare at the recruits as she strode out. Greagoir and the others stood just outside.

"Finished with your detour?" the man asked, tempering his anger.

"I apologize, Knight-Commander. It won't happen again." Caylus muttered, bowing.

"See that it doesn't, Captain." Arella bit her lip, staring angrily at Greagoir. They followed him through the rest of the tower to the First Enchanters office. There, Arella, Karasaad and Rynar were left outside as the Templars and Anders went inside to discuss Anders' fate. They waited, and listened to the muffled voice inside for what seemed like an hour. Greagoir was the first to come out, stomping past and not even acknowledging Arella. Caylus came out next, with Anders in tow.

"What happened?" Arella asked, going right up to Caylus.

"Anders... is going to stay in this tower and not be shipped somewhere else." he sighed.

"That's... a good thing... right?"

"I'm not sure there was a good or bad ending to that. Although he doesn't have to uproot his life too much. Or travel to a country he's unfamiliar with." The Templar shrugged, "The Knight-Commander also gave me leave to escort you home. I did not mention, however, that you don't exactly know where your home is."

Arella shook her head, "You don't have to. I have Karasaad and Rynar and I'm sure they'll help me. You can return to your... duties here." she said sadly.

"I'm coming." he pressed, then he chuckled, "Do you remember? You said something similar when we met. Wow, it feels like it's been so long but it's only been a few days. I'm not going to abandon you, but I'm afraid Anders will have to stay here." The girl nodded slowly, half-smiling to herself at the memory. She knelt in front of Anders and pushed a lock of his blond hair out of his eyes.

"Hey, what's that face?" she asked gently. The boy was pouting fiercely.

"I'm going to escape again. They can't keep me here!"

Arella laughed, "I'm sure you will, Anders. But remember, whatever you do, don't let your magick control you. Control yourself and always look for the best in people. _All_ people. Even the people you may not like. I'll miss you, my cheeky little mage." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

As the now four person group left through the towers massive doors, Anders watched them go and whispered under his breath, "Goodbye."

It was the last time he would see any of them.


	8. Andraste END

"Soooo... we left the boy at that tower and are now...? What? What are we doing?" Rynar questioned as the four of them shared a drink at the tavern in Redcliffe. Caylus had thought it would be a good bet to travel to the village as it was situated on a lake and Arella remembered her hometown as a fishing village. So far, nothing.

"We're trying to find Arella's hometown, elf. Stop complaining, you volunteered to come with us." Caylus grunted.

"That I did, shem. But you, on the other hand, forced your way in." Sparks flew between them for a moment until Arella put a hand up.

"Enough, you two." she said, standing, "We should probably get some rest, we'll be travelling again in the morning. Caylus, you said a place called 'Denerim' next?"

"Yeah, though it should take us a few weeks to get there." he confirmed. They spent the night in the inn down the way and in the morning left as fast as they could. Mostly to quiet Rynar's complaining about 'shemlen towns' and all that. Back on the trail, the group was more at ease with each other. Karasaad even spoke the occasional word to participate in the other's conversations. They all missed Anders' constant chattering, as annoying as it was, and Arella wished she'd done something more for the boy. It was completely unjust for Templars, for anyone, to treat mages like the way she saw at the tower. If that was how things were here, then she itched to go home. A week into the trip to Denerim, a fierce storm hit and threw them off course. The storm made the temperature drop as well. Karasaad seemed to be unaffected while Rynar was content to live in his trees.

"Ahhh, what I wouldnt give to have my furs..." Arella muttered, huddling as close to the fire as she dared.

"Furs?" Caylus asked.

"Furs. You know, clothing made of fur? That's really warm? Oh nevermind. Suffice to say that I'm cold." Caylus looked over at her shivering form, wrapped in her blanket. He himself had taken off his armor and was in two layers of light tunics and wrapped in his own blanket.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms slightly. Arella just stared at him, tweaking her eyebrows, "Hurry, I'm cold too." She stood hurriedly and sat down next to him, being careful not to touch him. Caylus frowned slightly and shifted closer, wrapping his blanket around her shoulders too. Arella found herself practically in his lap, "You know, you have strong ideals. I admire that, as much as I disagree with some of them." The man wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, "And you're absolutely freezing." he chuckled. Arella turned slightly to look up at him.

"Is this your method of flirting, Caylus? Get a girl close to you and tell her how you disagree, however, still like her anyway?"

The Templar smiled, "Is it not working?" He leaned down to kiss her gently and she played along for a moment. Just before their lips met, Arella moved her head past him, to whisper in his ear.

"I guess your charms just don't work on me." She nibbled his ear playfully. Wriggling out of his arms, she went back to her tent and waved, smiling saucily, "Good night, Caylus."

He stared after her for a moment and chuckled sadly to himself, "What are you doing?" he sighed and returned to his own tent.

The next morning, the weather hadn't cleared. They kept moving; however Caylus knew that they were way off course. The trees began to give way to marshes and Rynar pointed out that they were probably in the Korcari Wilds. They adjusted their course to angle away from the bog but found themselves only getting deeper. A few days passed and Arella was often out of breath, like her body couldn't keep up.

"Hey... can we... slow down? Maybe... take a break? I'm not-" she trailed off, breathing raggedly.

"Arella!" Caylus shouted, running to catch her as she toppled over.

"What happened?" Rynar asked, battling his way over through the storm.

"I... I don't... know. Something's- ...happening." the girl managed.

"Andraste's blood, we're nowhere near civilization!"

"Andraste? Andraste... My... mother's name was... Andraste."

A gale whipped around them and threatened to drown out their words. Suddenly, with a crash of thunder and lightning, a decrepit old woman stood above them. She wore tattered clothing and was hunched over. Caylus swore and leapt back, drawing his sword. Rynar didn't move, he just stared and whispered something. The old woman cackled and the wind died down at her whim.

"Asha'bellanar..." Rynar repeated, his voice cracking.

"Ah, yes. The young Dalish." the woman said shortly, she turned to Caylus, "Sheath your steel, boy, and let us converse like civilized beings."

"Who are you?" he asked cautiously.

She laughed again, "This one knows me as Asha'bellanar but you may call me Flemeth"

"Flemeth?" Arella mumbled, "No... you... went by another... name once. Long, long ago... How long?"

"You are a long way from home, girl. I would say... a thousand? No, nine-hundred and ninety seven years."

"What are you on about?" Caylus demanded.

"Oh come now, boy. You must have guessed that she was not from this time. But the fun has to end sometime. You are nearing the end of her spell and you must go home." Flemeth walked calmly over to Arella and tapped one of her spindly fingers on the girl's forehead. Arella shut her eyes and her head rolled back in Caylus' arms. Then snapped back up.

"Arella?" the knight asked.

"I remember. Caylus, I remember!" she said, incredulously, then her eyebrows knitted together and she looked at Flemeth, "Send me back. I need to- I need to do something! My mother, she-!"

"Is gone." the old woman finished, "The fool sent you away so you didn't have to suffer the same fate. She was burned at the stake by your own father."

Arella shook her head slowly, not wanting to believe it. Caylus just stared between the two, "Your... mother?" he asked, then chuckled softly, "The way you two are talking makes it sound like your mother was Andraste herself. But you said that she was a mage so that can't be true." Arella smiled sadly at him.

"If this is a thousand years later, how would you know if the great Andraste was a mage or not? My mother _was_ Andraste, daughter of Brona. My father was Maferath, the Alamarri warlord. He... betrayed us and my mother cast a spell over me to send me to safety but I wouldn't let go." She held up her right hand, "That's why I had those wounds on my wrist." Caylus just stared at her in shock. Everything he had known, what he had thought was true about the prophet and what she had been fighting for, was wrong.

"So... the elf... that you said was your mother's friend. Was Shartan." Rynar asked, not really believing that this was actually happening.

"Yes." Arella answered simply.

"But-" Caylus started but couldn't think of any argument.

"Quickly, girl. The spell will not last much longer." Flemeth cut in. Arella looked at her then glanced at Caylus. The old woman just smiled.

"Caylus, come with me." Arella asked suddenly, taking his hand.

"What!?"

"Come back with me! I belong there, but who says you belong here?" He stared at her for a long moment. Then smiled and made his decision.

"Okay, but only because you begged." He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose.

"Karasaad? Rynar? What about you?"

"This is a... choice?" the kossith asked, "Then no, I will stay."

"That's alright, I wouldn't dare intrude on your little 'lover getaway'" Rynar chuckled, "I think I'll travel. Care to join me, Karasaad?" Karasaad nodded after a moment of deliberation, "Then I guess this is farewell, Arella, shem." He nodded to her and Caylus in turn, "Make sure we hear about you in the history books."

"I wish we could have taken Anders with us..." Arella mumbled as she and Caylus waved to the other two and went with Flemeth.

"He's a strong kid, he'll be fine."

* * *

*EPILOGUE*

After seeing Arella and Caylus disappear, Rynar and Karasaad set out to explore as much of Thedas as they could and were eventually spotted in places as far apart as Val Royeaux and Seheron.

Anders, as you know, went on to escape the Circle 6 more times till he eventually met the Warden and became a Grey Warden himself.

As for Arella and Caylus, well, they arrived back in Minrathous just after Arella's mother was burned. Using the chaos, they fled the city, traveling south where they sought refuge with one of Arella's brothers in the Kingdom of the Planasene. Eventually their descendants moved to the newly freed Anderfels where they stayed for centuries, until one woman moved back to Ferelden with her husband and young son. The boy, being a descendant of the Archmage Andraste, accidentally burned down a barn when he was 12 and was sent to the Ferelden Circle. There, no one ever knew his real name but everyone just called him Anders.


End file.
